


Hiding in Heaven

by NerdsbianHokie



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Closeted Alex, Closeted Lucy, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, POV Second Person, and so can my muses, but only slightly - Freeform, teenage girls can be cruel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsbianHokie/pseuds/NerdsbianHokie
Summary: It doesn’t feel right. It feels very wrong. A part of you is screaming that you’re being set up.But you are drunk on the beer and attention from your former best friend and let yourself be guided.Vicki would never hurt you. She would never.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lucy Lane
Comments: 27
Kudos: 140





	Hiding in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Am I going to keep writing fics where Alex and Lucy meet before canon, then don't see each other again until canon?
> 
> Yes
> 
> this one also comes from a post I saw about Alex and Lucy in high school aus and how they would probably have been rivals and hate each other, so I wanted to try that idea out
> 
> I also just want more Alex/Lucy content and very few people seem to still be writing them, which makes me sad

You don’t particularly want to be at the party. You really want to be home, at the temporarily empty house, where you can control the TV and what is for dinner and when you get to go to bed and not have all of that decided by what your mother thinks is best for Kara.

But, Vicki invited you to the party and things with Vicki have been weird lately and you want to feel normal again. You want to forget the secrets now weighing so heavily on your shoulders and the grief still in a vice around your heart and just be a teenager.

A teenager who still has a father and doesn’t share a room with an alien.

So, you’re at the party with a solo cup of beer in one hand and discomfort crawling beneath your skin. Vicki vanished to another part of the house just over thirty minutes ago.

Thirty-three minutes ago, to be exact.

Because you have been watching the time. Because you don’t want it to feel like you're clinging to Vicki’s side the entire time.

You aren’t explicitly searching for Vicki now, instead you are meandering, wandering, slowly making your way through the house. If you happen to find Vicki, well, that’s just a plus.

You are stopped a few times, some conversations, some boys trying to entice you to the dancing outside. Eventually, you make your way to the upstairs lounge, where Vicki is giggling with the group that used to be your friends and are now just Vicki’s.

But Vicki’s face lights up when she sees you and you can’t help but hope that maybe things will get better soon, maybe the weirdness will fade and you won’t just have your sister.

“Ally,” Vicki drawls as she moves towards you.

You fight to keep your face from scrunching up at the nickname. Vicki knows you hate it.

“We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

This time, your face does scrunch up. Vicki knows you hate that, too.

“Come on, Ally.” Vicki’s hand is around your wrist, pulling you forward, towards the closet. “It’s just a little fun.”

And you know you will go along with it, know that Vicki used that phrase intentionally. You glance at the other girls, the ones who have insisted over and over that you are no fun, that having you around drags all of them down.

They are missing one - Lucy, the new girl in school who had quickly become your rival in class.

And apparently your replacement in the friend group based on the last few weeks.

“Who would it be with?” you slowly ask. There are no boys in the room, but it wouldn’t be hard for them to grab one from elsewhere.

The group giggles.

“It’s supposed to be a secret,” Vicki says. “But, Trent is down stairs.”

Trent is your crush. Or, was your crush. You haven’t thought about boys as much since you stopped hanging out with Vicki.

But you don’t know how to explain that, so you fake an excited look. “Yeah?”

“Duh.” Vicki guides you to the closet full of board games and a mix of DVDs and VHS tapes. “Just wait inside, we’ll get him.”

It doesn’t feel right. It feels very wrong. A part of you is screaming that you’re being set up.

But you are drunk on the beer and attention from your former best friend and let yourself be guided.

Vicki would never hurt you. She would never.

“He’ll be up in a few minutes,” Vicki says, gently pushing you past the door frame. “You can thank me later.”

The door closes.

You stare at the door, framed by light until that light vanishes as well, leaving you in complete darkness.

You sigh, lean against the back wall, start to think of what you will say to keep Trent from wanting more than some kissing. You just aren’t in the mood for more. You just want to be home.

Minutes pass.

The door opens.

The door closes.

The darkness keeps you from seeing Trent enter.

The words catch in your throat.

You just want to get out, want to run, but then everyone will know you ran and that scares you as well.

A foot bumps into yours. A hand hits your shoulder before finding your face. 

It’s softer, smaller, than you expected Trent’s hand to be. And gentler, as a thumb rubs over you lips.

Your head is tilted down and you barely have a moment to process before lips find yours.

It’s soft.

So soft.

And better than any other kiss you have ever had.

And it isn’t Trent, because Trent is nearly a foot taller than you but you don’t care because your mind is racing with the idea that kissing can feel good and not awkward.

Then you settle your hands on the boy’s waist and his hands slid around your neck and you pull him closer and his fingers tangle in your ponytail and your breasts brush against each others and

No

No

You freeze.

The other person freezes.

Your lips are still pressed together until you both jump back.

“What the fuck?”

You know that voice, hear it constantly from the other side of classrooms answering questions only you used to know.

“Lucy?” you choke out.

You can’t breath.

You have to get out.

You slam into the door, only to have it bounce back at you. Vicki is on the other side, cursing and holding her nose, a camera hanging from her wrist.

Your stomach drops. Tears well up in your eyes.

It was a trap.

You are a fucking idiot.

Vicki looks at you. Blood is dripping down her wrist.

Good.

You tremble with rage and fear and embarrassment and

"Fuck you," you force out before escaping, fleeing, running through the house then out of the house.

You make her way through the quiet streets until you reach the beach, then walk on the sand. You hug yourself as you walk, the waves providing background noise to your scattered thoughts.

You had only liked the kiss because you thought it was a boy.

That was it.

It didn’t mean anything.

-

You spend the rest of the year avoiding Vicki, avoiding Lucy.

You start to date Ziggy, a home schooled boy you surf with most weekends. He doesn’t like kissing either, so dating really just means you hold hands when you hang out.

You don’t obsess over what happens, but it lingers in the back of your head. You pay enough attention to Lucy to notice that she is also withdrawing, that she no longer is part of that group.

Then graduation arrives and you move to Stanford and at first you are too busy starting college to continue to linger on that kiss, on that closet.

It’s brought crashing forward at another party, one your roommate convinced you to go to. Beer flowing through your veins again, another’s girls fingers around your hips, pulling you in for a kiss for the benefit of the boys watching you.

And you just wish the boys aren’t there.

So, maybe there is something more to it.

So, you research and investigate and experiment and reflect and eventually reach your conclusion.

You’re so fucking gay.

You’re a huge fucking lesbian.

The fact that Vicki ditching you had hurt so much? Because you had a crush.

The rivalry between you and Lucy? Partially because you had a crush.

You’re gay.

You tell nobody save the girls you go to bed with after nights at the club. The closet weighs on you, but the fear of disappointment weighs heavier. The shame builds, pushing you to clubs more and more, then it’s joined with the shame of your grades getting worse and worse and the shame of avoiding your mother’s calls and you’re spiraling and falling and cracking and

Then you’re lying about more than your sexuality.

But the DEO is good.

But Kara becomes Supergirl, revealing herself to the world.

Which, in turn, leads to Lucy Lane, of all people, coming back into your life.

-

“Do you ever think about it?”

You look over the rim of your glass - whiskey, now, you moved on from beer long ago - to eye Lucy.

Lucy, who is staring into her own drink, who kept her voice low despite the fact that James and Winn are totally passed out in the next room and Kara flew off to rescue a kitten or something.

“Think about what?”

You know what, or, well, you suspect what, but you don’t want to be the one to bring it up.

“Alex.”

There’s exasperation in her voice, but also pleading.

You just raise an eyebrow.

She sighs. She leans towards you, looks at you.

Her eyes are beautiful.

Which makes you want this conversation even less because the crush turned rivalry in high school has returned and only gotten worse.

“I didn’t know,” she says. “What they were planning. They told me Andy was in there.”

You shrug. “I know.”

She blinks. “You know?”

“Well, not that it was Andy, but that you weren’t in on it. Your reaction, the fact that you stopped hanging out with them? It was pretty clear you didn’t know what was happening.”

“Oh.” Lucy looks down at her drink again. Her hair falls forwards and you itch to touch it. “I am sorry,” she says after a moment.

“You didn’t do anything.”

She shakes her head. “It was my fault.” She looks up at you. “I found out later that some of their boyfriends had dumped them, so they could ask me out. They knew I had been accepted to the Military Academy, so came up with a plan to get a picture of me with a girl, get me kicked out under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

Rage curdles in your stomach, mixing with the whiskey.

“I’m sorry you got mixed up in all of it.”

“That’s bullshit,” you spit out.

Lucy’s eyes go wide.

“Fuck them,” you continued. “They could have completely derailed your life, and for what? Revenge over boys who clearly didn’t care about them? Who dropped them the moment there was a pretty new girl? That’s completely fucked.”

“You’re not angry.” She sounds confused.

No, you’re furious, but not at her, like she clearly expected you to be.

“Truth is,” you start, anger and alcohol lowering your walls just enough. “That kiss? It took a few years, but it helped me figure some stuff out. Stuff I might have otherwise never thought about.”

Lucy stares at you, her jaw dropping slightly.

“As much as it hurt then, it helped me in the long run. I’m sure as fuck not going to get angry at you, the intended victim.”

Her lips are as soft as you remember. Her fingers dig into your hair, hold you close.

You fall into the kiss for a moment, two, then you gently push her back.

“Kara can be back any moment,” you offer as explanation.

“She doesn’t like seeing her sister making out?” she teases.

The old shame bubbles up again. “She doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”

Lucy’s hand falls to your knee, fingers curling around. “Nobody knows about me, either."

And Kara does come back then, crashing through the window in the other room.

Lucy's hand jerks back, jerks away.

Lucy goes home with you that night and is there in the morning and you talk and talk and maybe you will start to think about coming out soon.

But it doesn't escape your notice that, for now, you're once again kissing Lucy in a closet.

**Author's Note:**

> so, I hope y'all like it, please leave any comments and whatnot, they make my day and with the week I have coming up at work, I will need everything I can get
> 
> Big thanks to Vi and Aide for reading through this for me, y'all are the best


End file.
